Norgroth the Pillager
by Gorvar
Summary: A short story about a champion of Khorne.  Blood for the Blood God, Skulls for the Skull Throne!


Norgroth he was called, Norgroth the Pillager. He and his warband had sacked over a dozen villages and a city or two when they combined forces with other warbands, such alliances didn't last long mind. But he didn't care, in the present Norgroth was in his element.

He was in the thick of battle, wonderful bloodshed all around. The gore of it all, the madness, the chaos...he lived in it, he thrived.

'Blood for the Blood God!' he shouted on the top of his nearly exhausted lungs. He could feel his muscles slowly going numb, his heartbeat racing more rapid then the fastest horse, his armour and weapons nearly to heavy to carry, but he didn't care. He was in the moment, in the glorious slaughter of the enemy, he was one with his god, Khorne.

His ax descended down upon the head of a guardsmen, cutting it nicely in half as the various blood and brain fluids landed on his already blood soaked red armour. His shield bore the skulls of the enemies he deemed worthy to decorate it and the insignia of the god of slaughter, Khorne.

'Skulls for the Skull throne!' a tide behind him replied, which made Norgroth grin.

As he looked back he saw his warriors come behind him.

Like him they were also Warriors of Chaos, grim red armoured warriors wearing a thick gray hide cloak with horned helmets embedded with a T shaped visor. Unlike them though, he was larger, tougher...and more willing.

They were all villagers once, just like the ones that ran away from them now.

Norse, that was what they were, a clan of people that lived In the far north making their living of fishing and, admittedly, raiding.

However one day Norgroth, the son of a simple blacksmith had a vision. In it he was surrounded by a sea of blood and stood upon a smile pile of human skulls. At first he was terrified, the horror enraptured around him. But as he began to fear for his life in what seemed to be more then just a dream, he saw him...

He was as large as the largest whale Norgroth had seen and muscular, he had the features of both a noble human and a fierce beast-headed monster that sat on a throne atop a mountain of skulls, in the middle of the sea of blood. He wore an armour of black and brass, leaning on a large blood caked sword.

His burning eyes stared daggers at the young boy. However while any other normal mortal soul would have turned insane and screamed the air out of their lungs...Norgroth smiled.

This being...this wonderful, horrible being felt so...right, so strong...so confidant...

The being raised his free hand and pointed his sharp dark nails at the boy. He did not speak, but a name came into the boy's mind...Khorne, the chaos god of slaughter. Norgroth awoke shortly after...enraptured by the vision he rallied his friends and others willing to listen.

He did not know if it was his words or the aura of the glorious slaughter surrounded him...but the entire village of Haven marched out and abandoned it...taking up arms and making banners to honour the blood god.

Norgroth , after 'persuading' the others, which ended with a quarter of the village dead, became their leader and has led the warband to one glorious slaughter to another, like the one they had right now. The Warband, called Khorne's Fist, travelled across the borders of the human empire, attacking all those they deem worthy.

They pillaged those and took the women and children with them. Raising the later into the ways of Khorne and using the former to keep a steady population going. He himself had three consorts and spawned eight offspring with them, the holy number. The women were quite which slightly unnerved him, since it bordered with the ways of the god Slaanesh, Khorne's hated sibling.

A soldier charged toward him, sword up high. Norgroth roared and slammed his shield against his opponent hard, sending the solider flying. As he tried to climb back up, Norgroth ended those efforts with several ax strikes in the torso, sneidng innards flying and bones crushed. He loved it.

'Champion!' one of his men shouted.' More of them!'

Norgroth turned his gaze after he cut off the head of a militiamen, the small fountain of blood still spraying on him. His eyes spotted a large number of soldiers bearing the insignia of the Empire, the sworn enemy of his Master.

'They outnumber us three to one.' His fellow said.' What shall we do, milord?'

Norgroth smirked behind his helmet.' We honour Khorne, with me my brothers and sisters!'

He slammed his ax on his shield, in movement toward the increasingly terrified human troops. His warriors picked up the rhythm and marched alongside him to the new armed victims.

Three words sounded through the valley which undoubtedly would lead to another slaughter to the inexperienced regiment.

"KILL! MAIM! BURN!" it sounded. "KILL! MAIM! BURN!"


End file.
